


You're In Love

by squash1



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3674373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squash1/pseuds/squash1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There it is. You can feel it in the pit of your stomach when he rests his head on your shoulder, and it’s as though the affection burns through the wool of your jumper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're In Love

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, my Siren fluff always turns out less fluffy than initially intended. Anyway, here are some dramatic dead boys in love.

There it is. You can feel it in the pit of your stomach when he rests his head on your shoulder, and it’s as though the affection burns through the wool of your jumper. He links one arm with yours and clasps your hand between both of his, squeezing tight. 

You’ve put music on; some old Smiths song is playing in the background as you kiss his hair before laying your head atop of his. The song’s chorus sounds for a second time and it seems as though he’s trying to shuffle even closer. There it goes again, almost like a wave of anxiety wallowing in your stomach, but it’s so much better.

When he settles in your lap, you’re sure that this is how you want to spend the rest of your second life. Nestling his face into the nape of your neck, he breathes softly, and you can feel the small puffs of warmth on your skin. It’s a blessing, really, and you’ve never felt this way mindlessly tracing patterns onto anyone else’s back. 

It’s when his fingers start picking up a slow rhythm in scratching and massaging your scalp that you are absolutely sure that the beautiful boy in your lap is god-sent. In the background, Morrissey asks to be sung to sleep as you hum along to the tune that once helped to relieve your numbness.

His confession comes in a whisper and all you want to do is drink up those words, sip them right from his mouth. When he pulls back slightly from your embrace, the swell of his lips helps a smile onto your face. He’s incredible. He’s a gift, a gift from god, and you say a little prayer right then and there.

You know he doesn’t share your beliefs, but his voiceless laugh and the softness of his lips prove he is appreciative nonetheless. 

When he pulls back, the look in his eyes is eager. He repeats himself, and you wonder whether he’s really saying those words.

“I love you, Simon,” he says. Again, and again, and then once more. He’s looking at you with earnest eyes while he speaks and it feels as though your heart is going to jump out of your chest at any moment.

“Yeah,” you croak, “Yeah.”

He cocks an eyebrow and you can’t quite believe your luck.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
